‘I ASPIRE TO BE A POET’

In a nation where millions of people with diverse
interests, talents, and dreams co-exist, two professions — engineering

and medicine — for reasons entirely anachronistic and
culturally ingrained are valorised and continue to be the yardstick of success.
More often than not, in complete disregard of even ill-concealed disinterest, parents
force children to set aside their passions and become engineers and doctors,
who, in turn, end up being deeply frustrated and exhausted individuals devoid
of professional ethics, dedication, or any measure of happiness. Although a
minority of shall we say the ‘indoctrinated’ professionals among these young
people attain personal and professional success, the majority fail in terms of
either or both.

Having imbibed the popular preconceptions wh ich
equated ‘professional’ courses with success and reputation from a young age, I grew up reiterating that “I want
to become a doctor” (even in the absence of any understanding of the
profession). But deep within my abiding interest lay elsewhere — in the world
of letters. It was thus under the guidance of my English teacher Miss Rajeswari
that my interest in literature became a passion while various interschool competitions
gave me the platform to experiment, learn, and improve my talents.

But the story wasn’t playing to script yet. So by the time, I finished
high school with an overall A+, I was persuaded to opt for the sciences against
my wishes of pursuing humanities. Frustrated by classes at school on weekdays
followed by tuitions till late in the evening and entrance coaching on weekends
(for both engineering and medicine), I found myself constantly depressed and
discontented. Finally, I quit — wholly and entirely — convinced that I could
neither excel nor be happy in the realm of the sciences. An essential lack of
interest in the subject coupled by my
fascination for literature pushed me deeper into the world of reading, writing,
and public speaking.

While I was allowed and encouraged to take part in literary events
and competitions, many of my friends who were gifted artists were denied such opportunities
and confined to classrooms both by parents and teachers!

After Grade XII, I resolved to read literature, a decision
initially rejected by my parents who were still keen on sending me into Medicine.
But convinced aboutmy passion for
literature — my teachers played a part in the convincing part — my parents
finally let me join BA English Literature and Communication Studies at St.Teresa’s
College. That marked

the beginning of my happiness, of
life itself! I won several prizes in competitions, published my first book,
began to write regularly in journals and newspapers, wrote for the Kendra
Sahitya Akademi journal Indian Literature while at the same time
completing my course with an overall A+. Each and every ‘chapter’of that part
of my life gave me boundless satisfaction. Presently, I’m pursuing my master’s
in Literature and aspire to become a poet and professor of English one day.

Having experienced the dilemma of the disconnect between my parents
and myself in terms of the choices I wanted to make for my life, I strongly
believe it is important for parents to understand their children, and even talk
to the teachers who should know their students’ aptitudes and skills better than
most. This collaboration needn’t necessarily belong in an ideal world but it
belongs here and now.

Parents, children, and their teachers are in essence a team that needs
to work together closely and pull in a direction that answers to the instincts
and passions of the young person at the
heart of it all — the Child.

Professional success in the absence of job satisfaction and happiness
is meaningless. It can only produce a mass of discontented citizens. Parental
understanding and acknowledgment of children’s skills is of the essence here.

Ultimately, it’s the dreams of the young that matter. Little else!

Parvathy Salil

The
writer is a First-Year MA student of English Literature at St. Teresa’s
College, Ernakulam.